


Open Hands

by peachycans



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Malnutrition, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachycans/pseuds/peachycans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1671. Not the greatest time to live in what would become the United States; especially if the townspeople suspected you were something supernatural. Or something with powers deemed far too dangerous to go on living around humans.</p><p>And that's exactly what Dick Simmons is. A supernatural. A danger. <em>A witch.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chapter fiction that I've written that I actually finished. This story is one of my OLD WORKS, so it's highly unedited and fairly amateur. Sorry about that, but I'm not going back to fix all of the mistakes.

“Witch!” A young six-year-old boy yelled as he threw a pebble.

“My mommy says you’re a cross-dressing Satanist, and that you need to die with the rest of your kind!” An eight year old screeched, walking over and pushing the young boy to the ground.

Simmons screamed and cried, wiping the tears leaking from his eyes. He got up only to be pushed back down to the ground again. His small five-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend some of the words they were saying just yet, and it made him want to cry even more.

He rolled over and stood up, running away from the older boys, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?! Come on guys, after him!” One of the kids yelled. Simmons breathed heavily when he heard the footsteps approaching from behind.

In that moment Simmons thought of something his Pop had told him earlier that week, and he immediately reached up to the tree closest to him. Simmons scrambled to get his tiny legs to climb up the thick branches. He stopped once he reached the seventh branch above.

The boys below all pooled around the stump of the tree, yelling obscenities and snide remarks. One of them even began trying to climb up to pull Simmons back down. 

Simmons choked on his own breath as he yanked his frilly sock down and pulled out a rectangular flask full of a dark orange substance. He pulled the cork off of the top and drank most of the liquid inside, putting the cap back on. 

As soon as it was plugged, Simmons’ body was plunged into invisibility. He heard some of the boys shout below, but he didn’t think much about them as he jumped from his spot on the tree towards the ground below. Although Simmons didn’t land; he stopped mid-way and balanced himself, like he was flying. 

The colorful leaves on the ground below him were brushed aside underneath the weight of the air he carried. Simmons immediately ran as fast as he could away from the village, the potion giving him a bit more speed than he would normally have on the ground.

After some time he started to feel a weight on his shoulders. Suddenly it felt as if the ground had caved in beneath him, and he plopped onto the ground. Simmons looked up at the old wooden house in front of him and stood, running inside and slamming the door shut.

He unbuckled the straps on his shoes and took them off, placing them next to the door. Simmons then walked over to a bucket full of water in the corner of the room, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. He hopped up onto a wooden stool and splashed water on his face, letting out a few more sniffles.

“Simmons! Is that you? Git in here!” A gruff voice called out from a room close by. Simmons lifted his head up and used a nearby towel to dry off his face.

“I’m coming!” Simmons called back, hanging the towel back up and hopping down. He walked towards his Pop’s work room, peeking around the corner to see his guardian pouring a large bottle of a glowing red liquid into his well. It caused a small amount of gas to steam out of its containment, making the young boy gasp. 

The man immediately capped the bottle and placed it back onto the shelf, wiping his hands on his apron. He placed his fists on his hips and turned to face Simmons.

“Lemme see it, boy.” He said, kneeling down to Simmons’ level and holding out his hand.

Simmons shrunk into the corner of the doorway and looked down, brushing his maroon overall-dress back. “I dunno what you’re asking, Sarge.”

Sarge sighed, “Yes ya do, Simmons.” He held out both of his hands towards Simmons this time. “Now show me.”

Closing his eyes, Simmons placed his small hands in Sarge’s large ones. He then sighed and reached into his sock, pulling out the flask he’d used earlier, only a little bit of liquid left. 

Sarge grunted, taking the bottle from Simmons’ grasp and inspecting the contents. He let out a low grumbling sound, “Now Simmons, what did ah tell ya about goin’ to the village? Ya haven’t learned how ta control yer spells yet! Someone could’ve been hurt!” He reprimanded, shaking the bottle back and forth.

The redhead didn’t have much to say in response. Simmons rubbed his index fingers together and looked down at the ground, “I’m sorry.” He apologized, voice shaky.

The older man tried to keep his hard stare but he found himself sighing, picking up Simmons’ small frame and placing him on his shoulders, “Common, its potions week and ah want ya to be learnin’ all ya can get into that little noggin’ of yours! Time is of the essence!” He commanded, pushing the back door open to what he liked to call the ‘Toxic Training Zone’.

Simmons’ face immediately lit up. “Okay!”

*****

“I’ll be back later! I swear!” Simmons pushed the front door open, shrugging up the shoulder of his shirt. “I’m not five anymore, Sarge.”

“Alright, alright. Go.” Sarge grumbled. He picked up a small flask on the counter. “Ay, Simmons!”

Simmons rolled his eyes, looking back into the house, “Yeah?” A small flask was immediately tossed into his hands, and he caught it just in time. He looked up at Sarge.

“Wouldn’t want ta be forgettin’ that, now would we? I thought twenty-five meant you were supposed ta know these things.” Sarge said before disappearing into his work room.

Simmons looked back down at the bottle, reaching over to pull his sock open to place the bottle inside as he closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are a few things I would like to clarify. First, when Simmons was small, he would wear 'girly clothing' on his bad days to make himself feel better. And he always carries around a potion bottle to get him out of tough situations with the people in town; Sarge couldn't stress enough his concern with Simmons interacting with 'the humans', so he always made him carry one for when he does go into town. Have fun with the rest of this fic, kiddos.


	2. II

Sarge tapped his foot repeatedly on the hardwood floor. He had finished brewing for the day, and he had even tidied up the house a bit before Simmons came home. He had his chin resting in the palm of his hand, staring over at the clock that was ticking quietly in the corner of the room.

As soon as the door creaked open an inch the older man was out of his chair and by Simmons’ side. He placed his hands on the shoulders of the young man, shaking him back and forth.

“Did anyone hire ya? Did they find out what ya were? Did ya have to use the-” Sarge’s cut babbling was cut short as soon as a full bottle of latency was held in front of him.

Simmons let out a small laugh, pushing the older man away. “I’m fine, Sarge. I didn’t use any of it. I told you I wasn’t five anymore.”

Sarge looked up and shook Simmons’ shoulder once before letting go, taking the bottle and placing it on one of the shelves of the wall. He turned back to Simmons and looked him up and down. He had gotten tall over the years, even taller than Sarge himself. When Simmons was much smaller he was filled to the brim with chub, but as he grew up all of the baby fat stretched into the tall, skinny figure he was now.

“Just like your mum.” Sarge grumbled under his breath.

Simmons took a seat at a small table nearby, tapping his feet lightly on the ground, “Now that I think about it, you never really told me much about what happened to mum. Other than she died by my…” He pursed his lips. “Y’know.”

Sarge paused, sighing and taking the chair across from Simmons’ position. “Well, I’d hoped y’d never have to ask, but ah think its better ya know to the full extent. It’s why I’d always wanted ya to stay away from that damn town.” He rubbed his face tiredly, letting out a long groan before continuing. “Lemme tell ya a story. There was a man that fell in love with a woman, one of the most beautiful in town. Eventually, they married. What he didn’t know was that she was a witch. And as ya know, people don’t take too lightly about that kind of thing ‘round these parts. 

“Later on they’d had a baby together, and the couple couldn’t have been happier. But, one day, he caught ‘er showing the baby a few of her color spells. He couldn’t believe it, and he wanted to kill her, the baby, and himself. He felt he was, ‘impure from the mark he’d left on the witch, and the baby was cursed with him’. So she ran away and went to a close friend, another witch. She knew he would take care of ‘er baby. She had to go back to die. If she didn’t, her husband would manage to find her eventually and kill both of ‘em. She said these exact words, “I’m going to tell him I couldn’t live life like this, and that I drowned our baby in the river. Take care of him.” And she went back. Never saw ‘er again as he was left with her baby, hardly a year old.”

Sarge looked up at Simmons and noticed the lanky man gripping the table tightly, “That friend was me,” He then pointed to Simmons. “And that baby was you.”

Simmons looked down at the floor, “I just wish… I had some sort of memory of her. But she’s gone because of him…” Simmons sniffed and looked back up at Sarge. “Thank you.”

The older man leaned back in his chair, nodding at him, “Enough of the morbid subjects,” He said, shifting topics smoothly. “I wanna hear if someone hired ya!”

Simmons’ face brightened, flashing a grin. “The local blacksmith a few villages over hired me as a cleaner. The people there don’t know about who I am, so everyone was fairly nice. I stopped flying about a quarter of a mile away so nobody in town would see me. Told the shop keep I supplied my own broom.” He said, picking up the wooden broom off of the floor.

“Yer flyin’ is a rare trait. I’m still not too pleased about you goin’ all about with it, especially during times like these.” Sarge grunted, crossing his arms. Even though the old man always made a fuss about Simmons’ flying, he was proud of him. He’d never been able to do it himself. 

“Yeah… Sorry.” Simmons mumbled, standing up and shifting himself as to go up to the second floor of the house.

“Ay! Ah have supper ready! Where do ya think you’re goin’, freckles?” Sarge taunted, walking into the kitchen and pulling out a large pot of stew and bringing it over to the bowls set up in the dining room.

Simmons was about to walk into the room when Sarge yelled. “And don’t forget to wash your face!”

Simmons groaned.

*****

The next day Simmons landed in the woods around the same part of the forest he had the day before. He hopped off of his broom and clutched it tightly in his hand, taking in the fresh air around him.

Just when Simmons was about to start walking towards town, he heard a few footsteps running away in the opposite direction. The redhead immediately froze in place, his grip tightening on his broom even more. He slowly moved towards the direction of the village, looking around frantically as he hoped no one would jump him. 

He made it to the village fairly quickly, and no one had popped out at him during the hike. Simmons sighed with relief as he pushed the door open to the blacksmith’s, calling out, “Mr. Miller! I’m here!” Simmons walked over to the counter, looking over the wooden surface. “Zachary Miller…?” 

The front door of the shop suddenly clicked shut. Just as Simmons turned around, he was nailed to the counter, hard. 

Simmons yelped, bringing a hand over to inspect his hip, which was most likely bruised. But he didn’t get the chance before his arm was yanked up tightly. He looked up to see his boss glaring down at him.

“You a fuckin’ witch?” Miller spat. Simmons cringed as he felt the saliva splatter onto his face.

“What?! Why would you think that-?” Simmons tried to cover up, but Miller wasn’t having any of it. He held Simmons’ arm tightly and tossed him to the floor.

“Don’t you dare lie to me! You’re a witch! You’re lucky I don’t tell and have them all hang ya!” He roared, moving over and kicking Simmons’ arm.

Simmons tried sitting up, his arms shaking, “Well why don’t you just kill me now?” He coughed, placing his hand on his arm to stop a slice of skin from bleeding any further. He assumed the chipped floor had torn it open.

Miller choked on a laugh and grabbed Simmons’ arm again, yanking him so he was on his knees, “No, no, I need you here in the shop. But you do as I say here and maybe I’ll keep my mouth shut. For now.” Zachary bargained, letting Simmons go again and flinging the door of the shop open so a few customers could enter and try to order. 

Miller grabbed Simmons’ broom off of the floor and tossed it at him. “Get to work, you little shit.”

Simmons groaned as he sat up again, shakily holding his broom and catching a glimpse of an infuriated man walking out and slamming the door shut behind himself.

And it wasn’t Miller.


	3. III

Simmons’ cheek was pressed against the dining room table, a sigh escaping his lips. He scooped up a bite-size piece of chicken in his bowl and chewed, groaning with distaste as it traveled down his throat. 

He was wearing a maroon turtleneck, and his pants hung down all the way to his ankles instead of being rolled up like he normally presented them. His shoes were in the corner of the room while his wool socks were still on his feet, the shoes causing him too much pain.

The back door of the house opened and Simmons glanced up to see Sarge in the main room, tossing his coat onto a hanging rack as he put down what looked like a heavily-weighted bag. Moments later he entered the kitchen with a grin on his face, but his good mood faltered as soon as he saw Simmons eating.

“Alright,” The older man began, walking to the table and sitting in the chair with the other bowl of chicken stew. “This whole damn week you’ve come home and’ve hardly said anythin’ instead of ramblin’ away like you always do. What’s buggin’ ya, boy?”

Simmons sighed again, sitting up straighter in his chair so he was positioned in a moderate slouch. “Nothing. It just hasn’t the best week. …Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

Sarge grunted, deciding not to pry any further and instead ate his meal in silence. He wasn’t particularly big on the whole, ‘speak your feelings’ thing. He scooped up his bowl and placed it into the wash bucket, “Well,” He began again. “You could always help me with a few of mah potions if y’d like. Take yer mind off of things for a lil’ bit.”

The red head sighed before nodding, “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” Simmons watched as Sarge walked off, eating his food at a faster pace so he could finish and get to work. 

When he walked into the brewing room, Sarge had already laid out a collection of oddly-shaped bottles. He was picking up all sorts of materials off of the wall and putting flakes of them into the well. 

“Get me some of the garden dust, will ya?” Sarge requested, pouring a spoonful of the new potion into two identical bottles and placing them on the back counter.

Simmons nodded and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing the requested item and shaking some into the well for Sarge.

They continued to work for the rest of the night until all of the bottles were full. “Thanks for the help, boy.” 

Simmons shrugged and began to pull his sleeves back down when Sarge raised both of his eyebrows. The older man grabbed his arm and forced the sleeve back up.

“Mind tellin’ me what these are?” He asked, prodding a few dark bruises on Simmons’ arm.

“Oh.” Simmons audibly gulped. “That? I dropped the flask I always keep in my sock while I was flying and tried to grab it. I uh… Fell off. I was close enough to the ground for it to not do much damage… It’s fine.”

Sarge scowled, unconvinced. “Then how come ya have bruises that look suspiciously like fingerprints on yer wrist?” He asked, holding up the arm still in his grasp. Indeed, there was a hand-shaped bruise wrapping itself around the skin just below his hand. 

Sarge noticed the terrified expression on Simmons’ face, quickly letting go and crossing his arms over his chest. He was becoming angry. Not only because the person who caused the marks was still roaming around freely, but because of Simmons’ dishonesty.

The red head brought the arm to his chest, “A customer meant to ask me something at the shop and grabbed my arm too tight! They apologized, I swear!” Simmons claimed; droplets of sweat began to bead around his hairline. 

Sarge looked nowhere near okay with the situation at hand, but he nodded. Simmons had always been a terrible liar, “I’m always here fer ya, boy. And ya better not be doin’ anythin’ dangerous with this new boss of yers. I’m tellin’ ya that right now.” He stated firmly. “Now you better get to bed. Now.”

*****

Simmons leaned on the outer wall of the blacksmith’s, letting out a pained whimper before pushing the door open and walking inside. 

“I’m here, boss.” Simmons called out. He cringed when he heard footsteps coming from the only other room in the shop. 

Miller was in his space within seconds, an infuriated expression on his face, “You’re late. Again!” He roared, smacking the side of Simmons’ head.

“I’m sorry.” Simmons apologized weakly, lowering his broom. “I-I opened up for you though, to make up for it.”

The older man seethed, “I didn’t give you permission to do that, now did I? I haven’t got to making the other three axes in my set, and you go and open up anyway?!” Miller growled, whacking the hard piece of a hammer he was carrying on Simmons’ arm. 

The redhead yelped and hissed, clutching the new mark forming as he walked to the front of the desk with his broom, “I’ll just get to work now.” He squeaked. Simmons really didn’t want to upset his boss any more than he already had.

“Probably for the better.” Miller grumbled as the first customer walked in.

*****

Simmons was two steps away from the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder, another coming to rest on his arm, “Please, sir-” The red head began, but his voice faltered under the dark glare of his C.O. 

“No,” Miller replied sternly, a smirk playing on the edge of his lips. “You do as I say, unless you don’t want your secret to be kept any longer.”

Simmons closed his eyes and sighed, defeated. “Okay, sir.”

“You wait here until I lock up.” He ordered, tightening his grip on Simmons’ shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” Simmons replied, his voice nothing but a faint whisper by that point.

As soon as the older man let go of Simmons, another man in the shop moved towards them and did the last thing Simmons would have expected that day; he calmly walked up to Miller and punched him in the face. 

The resounding snap made Simmons wince as he watched the man stand above Miller, the latter cursing furiously. The newcomer grabbed Simmons’ hand and glared down at his boss.

“Touch him again, sir.” The man warned, “I _dare_ you.” The man spat on Miller, tugging Simmons towards the entrance of the shop. “Come on.”

“But-!” Simmons began to protest, but the man cut him off with a sharp, “No.”.

“I’ll report this!” Miller yelled.

Simmons pulled his hand back to the man’s surprise. But the red head hadn’t seen his boss get the treatment he deserved. He stormed back over to Miller and kneeled, raising a fist and knocking him out cold with the one blow. 

“Woah.” The man mumbled. His eyes had locked on Simmons’ reddening fist. 

“Okay…” Simmons breathed out, “That just happened, didn’t it?” The redhead shook his head, running out of the shop before anyone noticed him there. The man who had saved him followed, running until they reached the edge of the forest. 

The man plopped down onto the dirt, sucking in heavy breaths, “Sorry about the whole hand-holding thing there, but your arm didn’t really look like it’s in any condition to be tugged along.” The man gestured to Simmons’ injuries with a simple flicker of his eyes. “Did he do that to you too?”

Simmons cautiously sat down, crossing his legs. “Yeah… By the way thanks for that, I guess. My boss, I mean.”

“No problem, but,” The man said, thinking. “How come you didn’t leave that place sooner? It seemed like he did that to you on a daily basis.”

“Oh… Um…” Simmons was about to speak when he froze up, and the whole situation came crashing down on him. This was a stranger, and there was no way he could trust him with any sort of information involving who- _what_ he was. So he quickly came up with an excuse to tell the man, “M-my family is poor and we really needed the money, so I really had no other choice but to work there.” He lied. 

“Oh.” The man said thoughtfully, leaning back. “Well I run a bakery, and I could pay you if you worked as a desk manager. Like a cashier. It’s really only been me and my sister, and she’s always busy helping me cook and learning how to run the place to do that job.”

“Really?” Simmons expression practically lit up. But as soon as it had come it was replaced with fear. “But I really shouldn’t work in this town anymore; word might get out and…”

The man smiled brightly, “That’s fine! I live a few villages over anyway! You won’t have to be anywhere near here.” He stood up and held out his hand to Simmons, “Lemme me start over. Hi, I’m Dexter Grif, and I was wondering if you wanted a job.”

The red head laughed, mirroring his movements and shaking Grif’s hand, “Dick Simmons, and I think any job would be better than the one I have now- Well, had.” He confirmed. “But call me Simmons.”

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” The other man continued to smile. “Then you can call me Grif.”

“Okay, _Grif_.” Simmons said, trembling with joy. “Just tell me where it is and I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”


	4. IV

Sarge walked up the staircase of the house, his muddy shoes left to dry at the front door. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking both ways down the dark upstairs hallway. He lit up the candle at the top railing and walked over to Simmons’ door, concerned that the young man hadn’t returned from work yet. It was getting late.

The older man gently turned the knob and let the door open, shining the light across the room. In the corner where Simmons’ bed was there was a lump underneath a pile of quilts and blankets, red hair poking out from underneath the mound. 

Sarge closed the door and walked down to the other end of the hall.

*****

Simmons sat upright in bed as he began to wake up the next morning, breathing heavily. He ran a hand through his messy morning hair and groaned, thinking about going back to his job again in two hours. 

But then Simmons remembered what had officially gone down the day before, and grinned. He padded on his nightstand for his glasses and the slip of parchment left for him.

He threw on some clean clothes from his drawer and padded down the stairs, swinging around the corner into the dining room. Sarge was already there, eating fried bread at the table.

“So…” Simmons began, taking a piece of bread off of the table plate. “I got a different job yesterday.”

Sarge stared at him with a truly surprised expression across his features, “Actually,” The old man began, “Ah was going to make ya quit yer job.” He stood up and walked over to Simmons, gesturing to his wrist, which had been wrapped in bandaging. “Yer a terrible liar. Ah knew what was goin’ on.”

Simmons looked down at the floor as he pulled on his coat on. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright; at least ya got yerself a new one. But this boss better not be like the last one ya had, or I’ll have his head. Got that?” Sarge asked, waiting for some sort of affirmative from the red head.

Simmons nodded, grabbing his flask off of the front wall and placing it in his sock before grabbing his broom and going out.

*****

The red head took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the bakery, the smell of toasted pastries hitting him almost immediately. He glanced around for a moment before the back door opened and a girl skipped out, cornering him almost immediately.

“You’re the guy by brother hired, right? It’s great to finally meet you!” She grabbed his hand with a firm grip and shook his hand. Simmons’ face began to flush by this girl’s directness.

She smiled widely. “I’m Kaikaina Grif; you can call me Sister, or Kai, too. I’m Grif’s younger sister see, and he was just going to-”

“Sis!” Both Simmons and Sister turned their attention towards Grif’s voice. He was leaning on the doorway to the back room. “It’s his first day; you don’t need to ambush him.” 

Sister pouted and walked into the backroom, nudging Grif on her way there yelling. “See you later gray guy!”

Simmons stood up straight when Grif approached him, “Sorry about her, she’s a lot less obnoxious given a few days.” He said. Simmons nodded.

“This place was originally owned by our parents, until they left. So we both kind of run this place together. And don’t call us ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’, because it’s really weird.” Simmons nodded once more as Grif continued. “Basically your job is to make sure you get people what they ask for and take the money they give you. My sister and I cook the stuff in the backroom. I’m sure you can figure the front out.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Simmons shifted in his place nervously. “Thank you for offering the job, again.”

“Don’t mention it.” Grif waved off as he made his way to the backroom again. He paused, “And if you uh…” He glanced at Simmons’ bruised arms and lower legs. “Need a short break at some point let us know. You’re behind the counter. We open in an hour.”

After Grif closed the back door Simmons was left to explore the serving room. There were two small tables with mismatched chairs in each corner by the door and a counter in front of a wall with some fresh pastries on different shelves. There was a small, rusty button register on the counter and a placemat. 

The front of the store had fairly large windows letting in plenty of sunlight for the outside, and a view of some people moving around outside in town. 

Simmons sighed and tried operating the register. When he started to get comfortable with the controls he looked around and spotted small bags which he could only assume were given to customers when they ordered something.

While Simmons was looking at the boxes of bread near the front of the store he freaked out when he felt two hands on his shoulders.

“How’s it goin’?” Sister asked from behind him, letting go when he didn’t give an answer the first time she asked. 

“Fine!” Simmons replied, gulping nervously.

“I’m just here to open up shop!” She replied gleefully, pushing open the door and kicking it so it would stay open. “Whelp, good luck today!” She said before practically skipping into the backroom once more.

Simmons slouched and walked back to the counter when the cool outside air hit him.

*****

The day went by relatively smoothly, Sister popping out every now and then to check on him. Simmons went into the back three times that day when he ran out of bags to get more, catching Grif napping on the floor once and yelling at Sister for burning bread another. 

At first when he saw Grif asleep, Simmons was pretty stiff in place until Sister rolled her eyes and reassured him, “It happens all the time to the lazy fatass. But he tries.” She actually encouraged him to throw a few insults here and there and sometimes he’ll get back up if you give him a good enough comeback.

To Simmons they sure as hell seemed more like coworkers than managers to him. Maybe they were. It only took him a few hours to finally get used to Sister’s presence. Normally Simmons would be awkward around the female gender, but Sister didn’t seem to be too much of a concern to him as the day got later. 

It was lunchtime when Simmons actually worked up the courage to have a conversation with her. But that was only because Grif hadn’t told her how he had found Simmons, and she was curious. Grif tried to get her to shut up but Simmons waved her off and told her his whole story. She apologized for being pushy after he finished, continuing on with the day.

When the sun finally began to set, Sister closed up and Grif told him he could leave.

Simmons had left his broom hidden in a hollow log a little ways into the forest from the shop, so when he found it again he rode the rest of the way home. 

Right when Simmons entered the house Sarge shot so many questions at him, mostly about the people he worked with and whether he had any new bruises. When he told the older man everything was fine, Sarge seemed to back of, grumbling as he climbed the stairs to go to bed. The red head knew deep down that the older man was only looking out for him. 

After a full week with the Grif’s, Simmons decided he was going to keep the job. The siblings were more than surprised to hear this statement, but pleased nonetheless. 

In all honesty, Simmons was too.


	5. V

“C’mon, stop being a dickface!”

Simmons handed a bag to one of the many customers waiting in line to pay for their goods. He apologized for the language in the back and asked the next person in line to wait a moment before walking into the backroom. He found Kai in the corner kicking Grif, who was trying to take yet another nap.

“I’ll get him up Kai; take over for me for a few minutes.” Simmons said, walking over to the wash bucket and picking a pot up off of the floor nearby. Kai rolled her eyes and nodded, rushing to the front to help their long list customers. 

The redhead sighed as he scooped up water into the pot before placing it on the floor. Simmons stood over Grif, who was making a half-assed attempt to glare at him with his eyes closed. 

He nudged Grif with his foot, “Get up fatass, we have a lot more customers today than usual. We’re running out of bread rolls and muffins.” He commanded. Grif only rolled over in response, facing the wall and covering his ears. 

“Fine.” Simmons said sternly, grabbing the pot and hefting it over his shoulder. He grunted as he tipped the cookware, dumping the cold water onto Grif.

Grif immediately flailed and sputtered, sitting up from his position on the floor to toss his now wet hair out of his face, “What the fuck, Simmons?!” He growled, taking off his jacket squeezing the water out of it. “That was uncalled for.”

“Then don’t sleep while we’re trying to fucking work! Kai can’t cook all on her own with this many people, and I’m tired of having to apologize to every fucking customer because of you two swearing at each other in the back!” Simmons spat, crossing his arms.

Grif scowled, “Fine, fine! I’m getting up.” He waved his arms around wildly as a sign of defeat, grabbing a towel hanging on the wash rack and shaking out his hair. He then brought the towel down to his hairline and wrapped it up and onto his head. When he was done he crossed his arms over his chest. “No need to get your panties in a twist, _princess._ ”

Simmons’ face reddened with annoyance as he walked back to his position up front and sent Kai to the back again. There were only a few people left in line, and in a few minutes Kai finally began to bring out a few trays of pastries to the front. 

As the last customer walked up to the counter, everyone in the shop jumped as a loud scream ripped through the air. Everyone is the shop went still; it had come from the other end of the road by the local lake. 

Kai ran to the window and looked outside as their remaining customers fled to get a closer look. Grif came out of the backroom and walked past the counter, pushing open the front door of the shop and walking towards where a group of people were gathering. Simmons and Kai both followed him out as they reached the crowd. 

Two townsmen were dragging a woman towards the lake, her hands bound behind her back. She kicked and flailed frantically in their arms as they dragged her to the edge of the water, the fall down deep enough to kill someone in her condition.

A woman with short blonde hair walked in front of the crowd, pointing to the girl, “This woman was found by her house, growing crops with this,” The woman held up a small bottle filled with a green liquid, “A potion made to speed up the planting process. An act against God! This woman is a witch!” She practically screamed at the people before her. 

Everyone in the surrounding area yelled and booed, tossing rocks from the road at the witch. The woman grinned, smashing the bottle onto the ground, “Therefore, she has been sentenced to death,” She pointed to the lake. “To drown in the lake.”

Everyone around them cheered. Simmons felt tears welling up at the corners of his eyes and his heart rate quickened. He looked over at Grif next to him. He wasn’t cheering, but he did have a stern expression on his face as he watched the men drag the woman to the edge of the water. 

Simmons wanted to do something. He needed to stop them, say something, yell a spell towards the woman to free her from her bindings, _anything._ He couldn’t though, not without blowing his cover like she had done. If he was caught here, in front of all of these people, there would be no way that he could get away in time, unlike when he was a child. 

All he could do was watch in horror as she was shoved to the edge, her eyes frantically searching through the angry mob. Her eyes locked with Simmons’ for just a moment. He knew she could tell he was a witch too; he was the only one in the crowd that looked scared. 

He swore that she mouthed the word ‘live’ towards him before they pushed her over the edge and into the water. Simmons couldn’t watch anymore; he couldn’t take it. He shoved people away as he ran through the crowd towards the bakery again. He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore once he was out of view. He let tears fall down his cheeks as he ran and slammed the door open to the shop.

The redhead didn’t know where to go, so he ran into the backroom and fell against the wall, sobbing. He was on the verge of a panic attack, so many thoughts were speeding through his brain at once; what if the townspeople caught him in the woods? What if he accidentally dropped the flask he kept in his sock? 

The one thought that killed his the most is what would happen if the Grif’s found out. Kai had a pretty big mouth, she would tell everyone in town. He didn’t see her in the crowd of spectators, so he couldn’t tell if she was cheering with everyone else or not. 

But Grif finding out would be the worst out of everything that could happen. Simmons had actually started to get along with Grif, even though they argued constantly while they were on the job. He was right next to Simmons when that woman drowned; he had seen the expressions on Grif’s face. He would be disgusted with Simmons, probably even drag him down to the lake himself.

Simmons was cut from his thoughts when he heard the front door of the shop creak open. The redhead immediately stood up, snatching up a towel and wiping his face off the best he could. He was probably a mess, and he couldn’t risk Grif seeing him in his state. He looked at the clock in the corner of the room when the backroom door finally opened behind him. 

He didn’t have to look behind himself to tell it was Grif. Simmons was using the distraction of washing his hands so he didn’t have to show his face to the other man.

“It’s uh, getting close to d-dinnertime and uh,” Simmons began, stuttering. “I think that I should probably get h-home soon since uh, all that happened outside.”

Grif sighed behind Simmons. “Sure, if you want to. I was gonna close up for the day soon anyway. I don’t think anyone’s gonna go outside for a while after… All that.” 

Simmons dried off his hands and turned his face away from Grif when the backroom opened again, and Kai looked between the two. She caught Simmons’ expression and he froze. She would know he’d been crying. 

“Are you okay there, Simmons? It’s-” She was going to continue to talk when Grif hit her arm, taking a step closer to Simmons. “Simmons-”

“I should go, I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow.” Simmons cut him off, speed-walking out of the building and towards the forest where he kept his broom.


	6. VI

Sarge was reading a small novel in the main room of the house when the front door burst open, Simmons slamming the door shut. 

He immediately took slow steps towards the red head. Simmons’ face was red and stained with tears, and he breathed heavily where he was leaning on the door.

“What happened, boy? Was it yer job?” Sarge asked, a bit of anger hinting in his voice. When Simmons shook his head the older man’s stance relaxed a bit. “What happened then?” 

Sarge helped him over to the chairs in the main room and sat across from him, bookmarking his page in his book while Simmons gained the courage to say what he needed to say.

He waited for a long time before Simmons finally took a deep breath, “A witch was caught in town today. She didn’t even do anything wrong, she was just taking care of her home.” The red head choked out. “And everyone watched when they dragged her down to the lake and- and threw her in. I came home right after that…”

The older man shook his head and sighed, walking over to Simmons to put a hand on his shoulder, “Ah wouldn’t go back to work fer a few days, people are probably on the’r toes now from that. After that, ya can probably go back ta work again. I’m sure yer boss would understand, he probably thinks you don’t feel safe there or somethin’ and wanna take a few days off.”

The mention of Grif made Simmons’ heart leap into his chest. He really wanted to go back to work again, but at the same time he didn’t. He’s never been so happy in his life to have made actual friends. Every day he’d gone to work, he’d been truly happy with his life. 

Sister was fun, energetic, and the only girl he’d ever managed to be comfortable around. She’d constantly prod him with questions about anything and everything, except she didn’t ask much about where he lived or his family. He was thankful for that.

Then there was Grif. He was lazy and tried to do as little work as possible, but Simmons actually enjoyed his presence in the shop. Simmons actually started to feel more alone than ever when he wasn’t working. They were just friends, but he’s never really ever been closer to anyone in his life before except for Sarge. 

It was weird, dumb, idiotic, but he actually really liked Grif. 

But now, after the witch had drowned, he wanted nothing more than to be as far away from Grif as possible. Over the past month and a half he’d worked at the bakery, he’d completely forgotten about the fact that Grif was just an average human with no powers or special traits. And, like every other normal human, he probably wanted witches dead as much as the next guy. 

Simmons nodded at Sarge, climbing up the stairs to his room. He skipped dinner than night in favor of trying to read to get his mind off of things. 

Of course, that didn’t actually work. His mind kept drifting to three different things; the witch’s words towards him, going back to work in two days and, most of all, Grif. 

Simmons went to bed earlier that night and tried sleeping through half of the next day as well. When he finally got up, it was a little bit past noon and Sarge had already left for the day. He felt like complete shit for sleeping in that long, Simmons had no idea how Grif managed to do it every day.

And there it was, Simmons’ thoughts going back to the lazy fatass again. He really tried to stop thinking about him, but the more he did the harder it became. It was slowly tearing his apart from the inside out, giving him a headache as he ate brunch.

The second day of skipping work went by even slower than the first. Sarge had found out the location of an important witch site and he was going to investigate. He told Simmons he’d be back in a few days and left with nothing more than that. 

Since Simmons hadn’t eaten much the day before, his stomach was growling for food. He ate a lot that morning, filling his plate with as much as he could and digging in. He had to take breaks in between so his stomach could digest it all. He didn’t know how Grif managed to do it in one sitting. 

Simmons groaned as he washed the dishes, internally slapping himself. He couldn’t help it at this point; he just kept thinking about Grif. What would happen if he went back to work the next day like he was supposed to and he knew? Simmons would be as good as dead. There was a half and half chance he didn’t know though; Grif didn’t seem like he was angry with Simmons when he’d left two days ago. 

How was he supposed to know how Grif felt about the whole situation, anyway? It’s not like he knew a spell to read minds. That type of a magic was non-existent. 

Simmons finally made a decision about his current situation. He was going to go to work in the morning, and he was going to face whatever was waiting for him. He knew he couldn’t just walk in there and everyone was going to pretend like nothing happened. That was definitely not a probable outcome. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, so Simmons ran into the brewing room in the back. He opened a few of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle full of small blue spheres. He pulled the plug off and placed three in his hand. When Simmons sealed the bottle back up he tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them whole. 

It was like a potion in solid form that would put him to sleep in five minutes tops. It took about twenty hours to wear off, and he’d end up waking up again the next day. Simmons rushed to his room to his bed and fell asleep shortly after that, waiting for whatever would be coming to him the next day. 

*****

Simmons put a shaky hand on the door handle to the bakery, gently pushing it open and stepping inside. No one was in the main area of the shop, so he closed the door and walked over to the counter. 

He heard a light crash in the backroom just before the door slammed open. The hairs stood up on Simmons’ skin as Kai ran towards him, immediately wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. She was a lot shorter then he was, but she certainly had a tight grip.

“You fucker, where the hell have you been?! I was freaking out when you skipped not one but two days, and Grif hasn’t said a word to me since you left! It’s been so boring! And you picked the worst day too, I’m gonna be at Carolina’s so I’m only gonna be here for a few minutes! You made me cry, you douche!” She spat out all at once, letting go of him halfway through her rant. 

Simmons couldn’t seem to form words to communicate a response. He didn’t have to as they both finally noticed that Grif had come out as well, his arms crossed over his chest and a bit of an annoyed expression on his face, “Simmons.” He greeted, nodding over at him with his eyes narrowed. 

Kai looked up at Simmons and then over at Grif, back and forth a few times before clapping her hands together, “Whelp, Carolina’s probably expecting me so have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She said, waggling her eyebrows in Simmons’ direction making his face flush. She pushed the door open and ran outside, leaving Grif and Simmons to stand in the shop, speechless. 

Grif made no movements, so Simmons awkwardly rubbed his arm and looked anywhere but at Grif’s face. 

He was looking out the window when his wrist was harshly grabbed and he was yanked towards the backroom of the shop. Simmons began to freak out, thinking that this was it for him; Grif was going to beat him like his last boss and throw him in the lake, hang him in the center of town, kill him in some way. 

Grif finally let go of Simmons when he slammed the backroom door shut, his expression furious when he looked over at Simmons. He threw his hands up, “You mother _fucker!_ Do you have any idea how freaked out we were?! How freaked out _I_ was?! We both thought someone killed you or left you for dead in the woods or something! You could’ve told us you were going to take a few days off or something! But no, you let us assume you were dead!” He yelled.

Simmons’ eyes widened, “I’m sorry!” He sputtered. “I should’ve said something I know, but I don’t know why you’re getting this upset! You’re messing up the system! I yell at you, you yell at me, and then we go on with our lives! That’s how it works!”

“You fucking prick!” Grif shoved him, making Simmons stumble back a little. “Maybe it’s because I actually give a shit about you, ever think about that?!”

“W-what?” Simmons paused for a moment, standing up straighter, “But you said the other day that the lack of my nagging would be a blessing! I would’ve expected you to be more than happy that I was gone for a few days!”

“You idiot, you want to know why I was actually freaking out?!” Grif growled, “It’s because I thought you’d been caught!” He paused, glancing at the floor, “Just like the witch in the center of town.” He looked up at Simmons again. “I thought that someone in town found out you were a witch and they killed you like they did to her! Kai and I even walked around the lake to make sure that they didn’t drown you too! She was fucking _crying_ when I said we should check Simmons, that’s how worried we were!”

Simmons’ back was to the wall, his mouth partly opened. He was shaking furiously, his eyes blurring in and out while he was trying to focus on Grif’s face. “Y-you knew? This whole time, you knew I was a witch?”

Grif sighed, running a hair through his long black hair. “We needed an axe back home to cut down a tree growing in our backyard, so I let Kai watch the bakery while I walked a few towns over to get one from the blacksmiths. They hadn’t opened yet, but I saw people moving around inside so I knew they’d open soon. I was sitting outside when I heard people yelling. About being a witch. When the guy opened shop, I walked in and saw you on the ground. When I saw what he’d done I felt sick and went somewhere else.”

That’s when Simmons realized something, “I saw you walking out that day. It was my second day working there. But…” He thought for a moment. “Why did you come back?”

Grif grunted. “Took me a few days to get my shit together, but I couldn’t just leave that place and not do anything about it.”

“Oh.” Simmons said nothing else in response, just standing there in shock. 

Grif stood in his place for a moment, looking around. He huffed and walked towards Simmons, enveloping him in a hug. 

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Not just for Kai’s sanity, but for mine too. I had to stop around the lake a few times because I was shaking too much. And not just from the cold.” He added, burying his face in Simmons’ neck.

Simmons nodded, moving his arms to hug Grif back. He shakily smiled as he closed his eyes, a few tears threatening to leak out. 

Grif pulled away from the red head, looking him up and down. He chuckled when he noticed Simmons face. “God, don’t cry again.”

Simmons laughed as he moved his glasses to wipe his eyes. 

*****

Simmons looked around outside as snow fell from the sky at a light pace. Grif was locking up shop when he noticed the snow too. 

“Well, it’s Kai’s birthday tomorrow so the shop’s gonna be closed. You can come visit the house if you want.” Grif rifled around the pockets of his jacket before pulling out a small slip of parchment and handing it to Simmons. “I’ve got a slip for literally everything.”

The red head looked down at the paper before letting out a small smile, placing it in his pocket. 

“Oh,” Grif mentioned, pulling off one of the two scarves he had around his neck, and orange one. “You’re probably gonna need this. And,” He leaned over toward Simmons’ ear and whispered. “You can bring your broom with you if you want to; we live in a pretty woodsy area so no one would see you bring it in.”

Simmons nodded. “Thank you.”

“See you tomorrow then, nerd.” Grif waved before walking off in the opposite direction. Simmons watched him go, clutching the scarf in his hands.


	7. VII

Simmons hopped off of his broom in front of a small cabin-like house. It was a little bit before lunchtime, and it was snowing outside. He looked around the road, which was mostly covered with trees and a few houses here and there. He was halfway through the walk of the Grif’s house, a fairly long stretch. Grif hadn’t been kidding when he said it was a mostly woodsy place.

He walked down the rest of the walk and hopped up the steps, checking his paper once more before knocking on the door. Simmons waited a few seconds before the door flung open, Kai greeting him with a wide smile. 

“Grif said that you’d come over! And he just woke up too.” She grinned up at him at the last part. Simmons tried to ignore it as she held the door open for him. “I’ll take your coat!" She offered, taking the aforementioned item and tossing it onto a rack by the door.

“Happy birthday, Kai.” Simmons said before looking around the house. They were currently standing in what he assumed was the main room of the house, which doubled as a kitchen on the right. There was a small hallway with three rooms connecting off of it. Simmons assumed it was their two bedrooms and a bathroom. 

He heard a few clanging noises from the end of the hallway before the bathroom door opened. Grif came out with his pants on and a button-up shirt, only half on the buttons actually made up. 

Simmons’ cheeks flushed a light pink at the sight. Grif rubbed his eyes and finished buttoning up his shirt, sighing and looking up as he finally noticed Simmons. 

Grif smirked and walked over to the kitchen, pulling a drawer out and taking a biscuit before walking back over to him, “Didn’t think you’d be here for at least another hour.” He commented, glancing over at the broom Simmons had left in the corner, “You mind if I put it in a closet for now? Kai invited Carolina over for today as well without letting me know-” He glared over at Kai as she just shrugged in response. “-And she’ll be over soon.”

The red head picked it up again, “I can, where?” He asked. Grif gestured to a small door at the other end of the room and Simmons put his broom inside. 

“I probably should’ve asked before I brought this here, but it’s the only thing I could think to bring Kai.” Simmons said, earning confused glances from both of the siblings. He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a decent-sized glass bottle that had a gold ribbon tied around it. Inside, there was a navy-blue liquid with hints of yellow sparkling inside.

Grif raised his eyebrows and Kai held the bottle in her hands, inspecting it with a mesmerized expression. “What is it?”

“You can put a drop of it on the floor and the walls and ceiling of the room it’s in become the stars and the night sky. It really works best at night. I used to use it all the time in my room when I was a lot younger.” Simmons stated.

“Wow.” Kai kept staring at the golden flakes shifting around in the bottle, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed, running towards her room. “I’m gonna use it later!”

Simmons looked over at Grif. “It’s not poisonous and won’t kill you or make you sick if you get it on you or drink it. So it’s pretty safe.”

Grif stared at him for a moment before responding. “I can’t believe you can make shit like that. That’s… Kind of awesome.”

The red head looked at the floor for a moment, “T-thanks.” He realized something and pulled his jacket off of the rack, the orange scarf Grif had lent him on the inside. He took it and walked over to Grif, handing it to him. “I also meant to give this back to you.”

Grif reached his hand forward to take it for a moment, but paused. After a second he waved his hand away. “Nah, you can keep it. I’m feeling generous today.”

“Really?” Simmons gave him a questioning glance, bringing the scarf back to his chest. 

Right as Grif was going to confirm his question there was a knock on the door, both of them turning to the source of the sound. Kai ran from the hall again and flung the door open. “’Lina! I know you have to work today, but thanks for stopping by anyway! I knew you would!”

A woman with flaming red hair entered the doorway, looking down at Kai softly before her eyes locked with Simmons’. The red head silently gulped as Kai pointed to him, “That’s Simmons; he works at the bakery with us!” She exclaimed, leaning over to the other woman as she whispered. “He’s my brother’s boyfriend.”

Simmons’ face immediately went beet red. He moved to cover his face with his hands. Grif grunted behind him. “We’re friends, Carolina. Kai’s a little shit.” He said, pointing his cutting knife at his sister.

“Hey!” She pouted, putting her hands on her hips. “I am not!”

“Shut up, you want your birthday lunch or not?” Grif asked, pulling out a large breakfast-looking meal from their brick oven.

Everyone sat down at a table in one of the corners of the main room. Grif divided the food between the four of them, and they all ate in silence for the first half of the meal. When Grif moved, saying he was going to get cake for Sister, Carolina turned her attention to Simmons. 

“So Kai said you work at their bakery?” She asked, placing her chin in her hand. Simmons nodded in response. She grinned. 

“I work for the council in town as a judge. Things have been pretty slow for the most part, except a couple witch trials here and there.” She said, picking up her glass of water and taking a short drink. 

Simmons almost choked on a piece of bread, coughing a few times to get it down his throat, “Oh?” He asked, his hand clenching underneath the table in an attempt to calm down. 

“Yeah,” Carolina said, feeling a need to continue, “You see a witch poisoned my mother a little when I was six. I’ve always wanted to work for the witch trials, to put them in their place, you know?” She asked, placing her cup back down on the table. “They’re corrupt people.”

Simmons’ lip was trembling when Grif was suddenly beside the two with a plate of cake, “Happy birthday, Kai.” He said quickly pushing the cake towards her. She smiled as he handed her the knife and she began to cut pieces for everyone. 

They all ate rather quickly, although Simmons noticed Kai glancing up at him with a worried expression every now and then. Ever since they had received cake Simmons had made his best attempts to stop shaking. Later when he was finishing up he looked up once to see Kai and Grif looking at each other, having what looked like a silent conversation. 

“Well,” Carolina stood up, brushing off the bottom half of the light cyan dress she wore, the top half covered by a jacket, “I should probably get to the center, they’ll be expecting me to handle the next trial today.” She held out a bag for Sister. “And this is for you.”

Kai opened it and held up the fancy yellow dress, gleaming, “Thanks! At least let me walk you out!” She hopped up, the two walking out the front door.

Simmons stared down at his own lap before getting up from his seat and mumbling that he had to use their bathroom. Although anyone would know knew that wasn’t true since Simmons never uses the bathroom anywhere but at home.

He didn’t even bother closing the door as he leaned over on the counter. He let long, heavy breaths flow from his lungs as he stared down at a water bucket.

Simmons heard someone knock on the door to the bathroom and he looked up to see Grif, his arms crossed and an apologetic look on his face, “Sorry about Carolina, she has a prejudice against witches and I forgot. But she doesn’t know about you, I swear. And I didn’t think she would bring up her… Job.” He said in a low tone. 

Simmons let out a small smile. “You never apologize about anything.”

Grif rolled his eyes, standing up straighter. “Well yeah because that’s way too much work, but this is actually kind of important.”

The red head shrugged and walked out of the bathroom, but made it about a foot before he felt Grif tug his wrist, making Simmons face him again. His expression had become a bit more serious, “Simmons, no one is going to find out about you, okay? Kai and I wouldn’t ever tell anyone. I know she has a big mouth, but this is actually a life-or-death thing. And it’s scary to think about, but it’s true. You’re safe, okay?” He said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Simmons nodded, “Okay.” He said. Grif pulled him against the hallway wall, sighing before looking up at him. Hesitantly, Grif pressed his lips to Simmons’.

Simmons’ eyes instantly shot open, not sure how to respond. Grif had his hands on both sides of him, completely pressed to the wall. 

Grif pulled back when he realized Simmons wasn’t responding. Simmons looked him dead in the eyes before caving in and running his hands through Grif’s black hair, pulling him back in again. 

Grif seemed relieved by this, because he moved his hands down to Simmons’ waist and deepened the kiss. 

They immediately pulled apart when they heard what could only be described as an evil laugh at the other end of the hall. Simmons’ blush intensified when he realized it was Kai. 

“Uh-huh, ‘We’re friends, Carolina.’ What a load of shit.” She giggled. Grif immediately pulled off one of his shoes and threw it at her across the hall. She ducked out of the way and yelled back at them. “I’m going out for a little while then, I’ll leave you to it!”

Simmons groaned and looked down at the floor in embarrassment. He didn’t stay like that for long though, as soon as he heard the door slam shut Grif lifted his chin up and pulled him back into another kiss.


	8. VIII

Kai burst through the front door of the house, pulling off her scarf and shivering. Grif was sitting on a chair at the other end of the room, a glass of water in his hand.

“Well, it’s definitely snowing out now.” She said, shaking off her clothes by the front door and glancing around the dark space surrounding them. 

There were a few candles lit on the tables and counters, but it didn’t do much good to light up the room. She could make out only the outline of the hallway, and Grif was pretty hard to see, too. 

Her older brother made a quieting motion with his hands, gesturing to a figure lying down next to him with a blanket thrown over them. Sister paused. 

“Wait, did you like…?” She began quietly. Grif immediately cringed and stood up.

“Fuck no, Sis! That’s a pretty weird thing to do when you just kiss someone. What do you take me for?” He asked in an annoyed whisper, “When you left sure, we kissed a little-” Sister raised her eyebrow. Grif sighed. “Okay, a lot. But then the blizzard started outside and I told him he could stay the night since he couldn’t go anywhere without getting hurt. We talked and argued for a little while, and then he found some books to read. I made dinner, and he kinda crashed after that.”

Kai picked up one of the candles sitting on the counter and started for the hall. “Well, I’m going to bed. Night.”

“Goodnight.” Grif called back. He glanced over at Simmons on the chair, and felt himself smile loosely. He walked over and brushed some of the hairs on Simmons’ forehead back and placed a gentle kiss there, putting out most of the candles. 

He picked up the last lighted candle in the room and walked to his room, putting it out shortly after. 

*****

Simmons sat up groggily, looking around the room he was in. When he realized he couldn’t see anything, Simmons patted the floor below him searching for his glasses. 

Once he finally managed to find them, he noticed Kai sitting on the floor a few feet away from him with a cup of milk and a plate of steaming food in front of her. 

It seemed like she was waiting for him to wake up, because immediately she pushed the plate his way, a few pieces of fried bread and boiled eggs sitting there for him.

“Grif had to get more food so he left early this morning. That’s the last of the food in the house. When you finish we can walk to work together. Grif said he’d meet us there when he was done.” She smiled, grabbing the plate and holding it up to him.

Simmons nodded, taking the plate from her, “Thanks.” He said, trying to eat as fast as he could. 

“So,” Kai began, picking at her fingernails. “You and my brother seemed to get well-acquainted with each other yesterday, hm?”

The red head accidentally chocked on one of the last pieces of bread, “W-what?” He asked, his voice cracking. Simmons really had no idea what had happened yesterday himself. Of course, he had always felt a little attached to Grif, but Simmons had always kinda passed it off as what friendship felt like. But he never really felt that way with Kai, and she was a good friend too. It left him confused; he could never seem to figure out what the feeling was. He even caught himself stealing glances in Grif’s direction quite a few times. 

But Simmons had no idea that he actually liked the short, annoying, lazy, overprotective, caring…

So Simmons might just be in love with him. But how was he supposed to have identified that? He’d been pretty isolated from society for the first part of his life, with the exception with all of the times he snuck into town. It didn’t make any sense to him then, so why would it now? 

Kai continued as he finished up, “Oh come on, it’s totally obvious that you two have a thing for each other. You know after your first month of working I couldn’t get him to shut up about you? I mean he’s tried dating a few girls in town before, but he’s never really talked about them like he has about you.” She said, taking the plate from his hand and tossing it in the wash bucket. 

Simmons finally stood and carried his cup over to the wash as well, “…Really?” He asked, his face reddening. 

“Yup.” She confirmed, grabbing a coat and handing Simmons his own. He took it with a grateful smile. Kai pulled open the closet door and grabbed the broom resting on the wall. She held it out for him. “And this is also yours.”

Simmons stared at the broom before reaching out. He was about to take it before Kai pulled it back from him. 

Sister grinned. “You can have it, but only if I can look at it outside.” 

The red head ran a hand through his hair, “We really should get to work though, and people could see it outside…” He said, fidgeting. 

“Oh, only two other families live on our road. One is already gone for the day and the other never leaves their house. No one ever walks down here, too. And work is in an hour and it only takes half the time to get there from here. C’mon, please?” She begged.

Bottom lip twitching, Simmons finally sighed. “Fine. But there’s nothing interesting about it.”

Simmons was sure that she didn’t hear his last comment as she threw the door open and padded through the snow in the front of the house. He glanced around, noting once again the house was pretty much completely surrounded by woods save for the long walk. People wouldn’t be an issue. 

She threw one of her legs over his broom like she was trying to fly it and ran around the yard, jumping up a few times, “How come it doesn’t wanna fly?” She asked, un-mounting and walking back over to him. 

“Well,” He began, taking the broom, “It requires a witch’s magic to fly, and even then only some witches are born with the ability to fly.” He pulled the broom under himself and gripped the front tightly, willing it to lift up off of the ground about a foot. “Like this.”

Kai looked absolutely mesmerized, “That’s so cool! If a human sat on it too, would it still fly?” She asked. 

He hopped onto the ground again and picked up the broom. “In theory, yes. But I think that the handle wouldn’t be able to hold up even one person. When you fly, you have to will your body to become as light as a feather so it can carry you. It’s a spell, really. If I put that spell on myself now anyone could carry me without any effort.”

Kai looked him up and down before giving him a devilish grin, holding out her arms.

Simmons narrowed his eyes, “No.” He stated as he started the walk to work even though he had no idea where he was really going. 

“Oh, come on!” She complained, chasing after him. 

It took only a few minutes to finally get off the subject of carrying him and onto something else. She kept giving him scenarios and asking him if there was a spell for it. Most of them were no, like shapeshifting and lighting a fire by talking. 

On the way to the bakery she talked and talked and talked. She told him that she used the potion he gave her in her room and that she loved it. She told him that her mom used to always tell them that witches actually looked like demons and shapeshifted like humans to cover their evil tricks. He confirmed to her that it wasn’t true. 

He told her that witches weren’t any type of other lifeform like people always made them out to be. They were human, too. If they grew up in an environment with all humans and no witches, they’d live just like them. The only difference between them was that if a human uttered a spell, nothing would happen. If someone born a witch did, it would have the full effect. 

That’s how most time passed until they finally arrived at the bakery. Grif was already there, a few boxes in the back full of food he was going to take home later that day. He smiled warmly when he noticed Simmons, and he smiled back with a blush. 

Business was slow the rest of the week. Only a few people a day would pop in and out. Carolina came around once to get a baker’s dozen of fresh bread rolls and croissants. At a pretty bad time too, they were just packing it in for the day and Simmons was in the backroom putting out a few candles with the word, ‘extinguish’.

He’d closed the door and inhaled sharply, watching Kai as she filled Carolina’s box with the requested amount. She’d looked him over with a blank expression before paying and walking out with her goods. 

Two months passed, and Simmons visited the Grif’s house at least once every week after work. Sometimes even twice. He liked talking to Grif, bickering over idiotic and pointless subjects as dinner was being made for the night. Kai got amusement out of just watching them. 

Simmons also liked the kisses he’d get after work as well as when he visited their house and the little touches and glances while they were on the job. They seemed to grow closer and closer to each other with every passing day. 

One night all of them were sitting in the main room of the house. The siblings were talking about how ridiculous their childhood was. Grif once asked Simmons if he’d done anything stupid when he was younger. He replied with all of the times he’d tripped, thrown pebbles, and once even tried a spell to make a little girl yelling at him unmindful.

Simmons had actually worked up the courage to let Sarge know that he was seeing someone. The older man had been a little against it at first since they worked together and that Simmons was a witch and Grif was a human, but when he finally realized his opinion was making Simmons a little upset, he let it go as long as Simmons promised to be careful. 

One day after work, Grif had asked Simmons if it was okay if he went to Simmons’ place instead of his own. 

The red head became extremely nervous, saying that he did live with the person who raised him and that he was a bit rough about human territory. But Simmons caved; he figured Sarge would have to meet Grif sooner or later. 

“I still don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this. I mean, I’ve heard of all the stories you tell us of him, but I don’t see how bad it could be.” Grif commented, holding onto Simmons’ hand as they walked through the woods. 

Simmons huffed, “Well, I’ve never seen him around a regular human before. And he’s always pretty strict when it comes to people in general.” He told him, the house finally coming into view. 

Grif looked up at the large building, “Holy shit, your house is fucking big.” Grif said, staring at the lawn. The snow melted just at the edge of the property, the grass slowly fading from brown to olive and eventually a beautiful green. 

The red head had already let go of Grif’s hand and opened the front door, holding it for him to come inside. 

“Sarge, I’m back! …Grif’s here, too.” Simmons said the last part a little quieter as Grif looked around. 

“What?!” Immediately loud steps could be heard from the second floor of the house, and Sarge looked down over the railing, his eyes narrowed at Grif. 

“Oh, shit.” Simmons cursed, waving his arms. He’d forgotten to tell Sarge that the Grif’s knew he was a witch. 

The older man was suddenly in Grif’s space, and Simmons had to squeeze in between the intense glares they were giving each other, “Sarge its fine! I forgot to tell you Grif knows that we’re witches he knew that a long time ago!” He spit out.

It took Sarge a moment to process that information before he took a step back, huffing. Simmons moved to the side again as Sarge crossed his arms over his chest, “Ah still don’t trust ‘im. Could secretly work for the council or somethin’.” He grunted, looking Grif up and down.

Grif blew his bangs out of his eyes before looking up at Sarge. “I don’t, I swear. I’m-”

“Dexter Grif, ah know. Simmons here’s told me about ya.” Sarge said, never pulling the disgusted expression he had away from Grif. 

Simmons looked at Grif and noticed that Grif didn’t really seem to be bothered by Sarge’s clear distaste. In fact it looked like he just accepted it. 

Simmons clapped his hands together, “Well I’m going to show Grif around real quick.” He said, nodding his head for Grif to follow him up the steps. 

“As long as ah don’t catch ya makin’ out, ya hear me?!” Sarge yelled from his place downstairs, glaring up at Grif. “And make it quick! Ah only make supper for two people!”

The red head groaned. 

*****

Carolina was over the Grif’s house by Sister’s invitation again. She talked to Kai while Grif just stared out the front window, watching more snow fall. 

“So your brother’s new… Friend seems to be around you guys a lot. Unlike most people. He comes around often.” Carolina commented, looking over in Grif’s direction.

“Yeah,” Grif retorted. “What about it?”

Carolina brushed some of her hair behind her ear, “I just have a strange feeling in my gut every time he’s around the bakery when I go there.” Her voice was void of emotion. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Yeah,” Grif said, looking around with a nervous expression she couldn’t see. “It is.”


	9. IX

Simmons gently pushed open the front door of the house, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack. As he turned back around he noticed the eating table had two fresh plates of food with Grif leaning on the wall next to it.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s this about?” The red head asked as he stood in place, raising his eyebrows. 

Grif laughed, walking over and giving Simmons a quick peck on the lips, “I wanted to do something nice, nerd. Is that so hard to believe?” He asked, guiding him to sit down.

Simmons rolled his eyes and grinned, “A little, yeah. Where’s Kai? Isn’t she normally home by this hour?” He poked a bite-size piece of chicken with his fork and bit into it. 

“You underestimate my abilities, _Simmons._ ” Grif said, already digging into his food. He swallowed to continue. “She went to Carolina’s for the night because she hasn’t stayed over there in a while. She’ll be back home tomorrow afternoon since its Sunday.”

Nodding, the red head continued to eat along with Grif. The rest of the meal was relatively quiet, a rarity in itself for the two of them.

When they finished up, Simmons offered to help Grif clean up by lining everything up to dry by the wash bucket. Since it was dark outside by that point, Simmons also helped Grif light up the candles in the house so it wouldn’t be as dark.

Grif had thanked him by giving him a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek. It left Simmons a bit disgusted, scrubbing off the affected area as well as he could. The shorter of the two laughed, leaning up slightly to give him a proper kiss. 

This is what led to Simmons leaning on one of the walls of the living room, his hands tangled in Grif’s messy black hair as the other licked his lips to deepen their kiss. 

Simmons let out a sigh, tilting his head upwards as Grif moved to pepper kisses long his jawline. He paused, pulling back to look at the red head with a brilliant gleam in his eyes. 

“Since Kai is staying at ‘Lina’s for the night, maybe you’d wanna stay over here?” Grif asked, his tone obviously hinting at something else. 

Simmons loosened his fingers slightly from their position, eyes searching over Grif’s face. The latter’s expression because completely serious. 

“Only if you want to, and only if you’re completely sure about it.” Grif said, his thumb rubbing Simmons’ waist. 

It took a minute for Simmons to compose himself, looking at the floor and mulling things over. If Grif was actually asking him what he thought he was asking him, then that would be a huge step for him to take. Simmons loved Grif, he did, he just had to think about it for a few minutes.

Grif seemed to understand, so he made no movements as Simmons bit his lip and his cheeks flushed a light red tint. He finally looked up, running his fingers through Grif’s hair again and nodding before pulling him in for another kiss. 

*****

Simmons squinted at the bright light cast in his eyes. He threw one of his arms over his eyes and let out a quiet groan, feeling a dull ache course through his body.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up, glancing around the room. The thin blanket over him shifted and slid down to his waist with his movement. It was at that moment Simmons realized where he was and what exactly had happened. 

‘Holy shit, Grif and I fucking did it.’

Sure enough when Simmons glanced beside himself, Grif was lying down next to him, gently snoring. He was chest-down on the bed with one arm tucked underneath his pillow and the other right next to Simmons, which had previously been slung over Simmons’ thin frame.

He rubbed his forehead and picked up his glasses off of the bedside table. Simmons then leaned over and a little but too forcefully nudged Grif’s arm. It did take a bit of effort to wake Grif up. The other squeezed his eyes shut, groaning before peeling them open and glancing Simmons up and down. 

Grif cackled, stretching out like a cat, “Guess you’re gonna feel like shit for a little while.” He laughed, prodding Simmons’ neck. 

The part of Simmons’ neck Grif poked throbbed when he pulled his hand back. He rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his nose, climbing out of bed, “Fuck you.” Simmons sent a tired glare Grif’s way.

Grif smirked, leaning back and resting his arms behind his head. “I’m not quite sure that’s what happened last night. If I recall, I was the one that-” 

“Oh my god shut the fuck up!” Simmons squeaked, feeling his skin heat up as he pulled on his pants that he’d found on the floor. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grif was considering going back to sleep again, but deciding against it when his stomach groaned. He stood and got dressed along with Simmons, moving to grab at the other’s hips when he was done. Grif rested his chin on Simmons’ shoulder. “I’m gonna make some food, want anything specific?”

“No, it doesn’t really matter.” Simmons’ skin prickled with coldness when Grif let go of him and walked out of the room. He followed shortly after, rubbing his neck.

Simmons stayed for a little while after breakfast had been finished, the two sitting and talking. Not about the usual kind of things, but that of important and serious matter. Mostly about Simmons’ situation. How would they be able to stay together without both Grif and Sister leaving their friends behind, or Simmons giving up magic forever? 

Grif told him that they could find a way to work everything out. He told Simmons that their family did seem to be exceptionally lucky when worse came to worse. That made Simmons feel a lot better afterwards.

When Simmons walked outside with his broom, Grif gave him one last kiss before he left. The red head smiled warmly and wrapped Grif’s old scarf around his neck before making his way into the woods. 

Simmons held his broom in his hand gently as he tried to get further into the thicker parts of the forest. He kept thinking about what Grif said, that everything had a way of working itself out for them. But Simmons just couldn’t see how they could live normally with him being a witch.

He didn’t have to ponder it for very long though, just as Simmons was about to start flying a musket went off behind him. 

Immediately the broom in his hand shattered into three pieces, wood splintering off and grazing his right eye.

Simmons gasped and held a hand to his eye as he swiveled around. There was a man standing a few feet behind him, loading another round into his musket. He was bald and wore a long white coat with yellow accents. Just as he finished up loading a new round he ran towards Simmons. 

It took Simmons less than a second to realize the man was trying to kill him, and he started to run away as fast as he could. But this new enemy was faster, aiming and firing before Simmons could get far enough. 

Simmons cried out as the bullet hit his left leg. He tripped on a loose root and fell over, sobbing as he looked down at his leg. It was oozing blood over a tear in his pants, the bullet still buried deep inside. 

The man approached faster, slinging the gun over his back and rolling up his sleeves. Simmons pulled himself forward as fast as he could, trying desperately to get away from him. He reached down and grabbed both of Simmons’ arms, yanking him up.

He couldn’t kick, so Simmons tried screaming and yelling for someone, anyone to help. He struggled in the man’s grip, freeing himself and hitting the ground with a loud thud. 

_“Someone!_ ” Simmons all but screamed, realizing he might not be too far away from Grif’s house for him to know, “ _Somebody! Grif! Please!”_ Tears began to leak down Simmons’ cheeks from the pain as the man tried to tie a cloth around his mouth.

Simmons shrieked when it finally tied at the back of his head and his legs were grabbed, dragging him in the direction of town. The red head tried screaming more, but it was no use by this point. He just sobbed louder when the man raised a fist, knocking him unconscious.

*****

Grif was hyperventilating. He paced the floor of the shop, breathing heavily. 

“Dex, please! You’re scaring me!” Kai said, her eyes tear-stained.

“A week, one fucking week and Simmons still hasn’t come to work. Oh god. Please, please, please…” Grif wheezed out the last three words, messing up his hair even more. 

The front door opened and both siblings’ heads shot up. Their expression faltered only slightly when they realized it was just Carolina. She had an ice cold glare directed at Grif, and he glared back.

“What do you want? We’re closed today.” Grif demanded.

“I just wanted to let you two know that work finally picked up after these last few weeks. We have a new witch trial to deal with now. Maine found that thing in the woods while he was hunting. And I want you two to be there next week.” She said, making her way to the door again. 

Grif and Sister both stared at each other for a few seconds before Kai decided to speak up. “W-why this one?”

Carolina smirked as she pushed the door open. “Because this trial is for Dick Simmons.”


	10. X

Simmons coughed, cringing as his stomach let out a low throb. He curled up into a ball in the corner of his cell and closed his eyes. 

It had been a week since his was put in there by the man that shot him. He’d heard his name was Maine from a few guards, but Simmons had preferred to just call him Lunatic.

The bullet from the musket shot still remained in his leg. The edges of the wound had turned a disgusting green color with puss oozing around inside. He couldn’t look at it for more than a few seconds without throwing up. He’d always make sure to vomit through the bars of his cell. He knew if he wasted into his own cell no one would clean it up, but since it was in a hall where people walk they’d have no choice but to clear it out. 

The red head also had to avoid looking at his leg since he hardly got any food into his system now. Two pieces of stale bread and a glass of water every day during the evening, and that was it. Anything he couldn’t hold down meant one day without any food. 

His head throbbed constantly; a large bruise had formed at his temple where Lunatic had hit him originally. Simmons couldn’t stop thinking about coming to the prison.

It was mid-afternoon when Simmons had finally gained consciousness, but it was only for a short time. Both of his arms had been slung around two guard’s shoulders, pulling him painfully through the small prison. He’d still been wearing the clothes he’d had on that morning when they dragged him in.

The second time he’d come to he was inside a cell with different clothes on; a ratty shirt and pants that weren’t his. They were disgusting, dirty, definitely worn by many people before him. His wrists also had chains connected to the floor, keeping him from moving any further than the cell door. There was a guard with blonde hair and a scar across his nose watching him when he looked past the bars, but he left once Simmons shifted around.

Over the course of the week Simmons could practically feel himself losing a little bit of weight from the malnutrition, but that was really the least of his concerns. 

Simmons just wanted to see Grif again. He was fairly sure he wouldn’t be getting to see him again before he was sentenced to death; and he would be sentenced. It was certain. He’d never understood the point of trials since no one had ever let a witch live by the end of it. 

He also wanted to get to talk to Sarge. He wanted to thank him for raising him, and always looking after him growing up. Simmons also wanted to apologize for getting involved with humans after the older man had told him it would be risky. Sarge deserved that much for him.

But if he hadn’t come he would have never met Grif. 

It was the one thing in the dead, empty cell that gave Simmons even the slightest smile. He was happy he’d been able to meet the Grif’s, all they’d done for him. They’d even been fine with him being a witch, something he’d never seen any human do before. Even if it meant he wouldn’t be imprisoned.

Too bad he was going to die before he got to see the rest of the humans change with them. 

*****

“I’m sorry, but I already told you I’m not allowed to let anyone in! Even if I actually wanted to, the warden’s coming back soon, and he’d blow a fuse if he knew I let someone visit. And with a witch, no less.” 

Grif growled, his patience quickly deteriorating. The guard before him was really starting to piss him off, so he put his hands down on the wooden counter and let out a long breath. “C’mon, Washington. I know the warden is Maine, you ass. I also know the woman helping out with the trials, Carolina. With this information in mind, you better let me see that fucking witch. Right. Now.”

Wash made a pained sound, looking around quickly before standing and gesturing him to follow. 

Most of the cells in the hall were empty, but there were a few groans coming from the end of the line. Grif was halfway through asking Wash which cell he was in when he heard shuffling and the jingle of chains. Suddenly two hands were gripping the bars of a nearby cell.

“Grif?!” Grif heard from the cell, a voice that was unmistakably Simmons’.

“Three minutes.” Wash said firmly before walking to the end of the hall to watch for Maine. 

Grif immediately ran to the cell, finding Simmons kneeling on the ground and looking up at him with the happiest expression he’d ever seen, “Simmons!” Grif said as he halted, kneeling down so he was on Simmons’ level. 

Simmons had his face pressed onto the cell bars, so Grif held one of Simmons’ cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. 

“Simmons, your leg…” Grif noticed one he’d pulled back, quickly glancing away as he only assumed what had happened. “Look you’re gonna be okay.”

“Grif,-” Simmons began but Grif cut him off.

“You’re gonna get out, alright? You will.” Grif said, a few tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He was punching Maine internally when he noticed the large bruise on the side of Simmons’ head.

“Grif.” Simmons said again, his throat so dry that he had to cough to be able to voice what he had to say. It seemed to gain Grif’s attention, so he continued, “I don’t think I’m gonna make it out. I need you to know that.” He thought for a moment before he moved his shackles to hold Grif’s hand on his cheek. “I love you.”

“Don’t say that.” Grif said shakily, tears leaking down his cheeks. “Don’t you dare fucking say that.”

Simmons faltered when Grif drew his hand back, coughing once more. His voice was scratchy, struggling to keep his coughs down. “Grif, no one’s ever won a witch trial. The humans always win. Always.”

“Simmons…” Grif said, tilting his head and sniffing. He forced a small smile. “You’re human too.”

Grif felt a hand on his shoulder, gently tugging him back, “Times up.” Wash said, helping Grif stand. The latter tried to break loose and back to Simmons but Wash was one step ahead, grabbing his hands behind his back and tugging him in the other direction. 

Simmons’ breathing quickened as he tried standing to the best of his ability without putting strain on his leg, “Grif!” He called out. Grif was leaving too soon. He needed him back. 

“Simmons!” Grif struggled, “I’ll be back soon, okay?” He said as Wash took him back to the main room. 

“Mother-fucker…” Grif cursed, yanking himself out of Wash’s grip once the older of the two shut the gate to the back again, storming out and slamming the door shut behind him.

*****

Grif had convinced Wash to let him see Simmons one more time the day before his trial. At first the blonde was very clear that he wasn’t going to let Grif in again, but a quick bribe with some money quickly changed his mind.

He told Simmons that he was going to be at the trial, and he didn’t have to worry about anything. Simmons still wasn’t convinced, but he nodded. 

It was then he realized Simmons’ face seemed hollow. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was paler than ever. His cheekbones had more definition than what was normal and it made Grif clench the bars separating them tightly. 

When Grif left he noticed someone at the edge of the forest leaning on the back of the closest shop with a cloak on. Grif raised an eyebrow in curiosity but kept moving. It wasn’t until he noticed the stubble of facial hair and aging wrinkles adorning their face that he knew who it was. 

Grif froze in place before panicking and marching over to them. He promptly sized them up as they took the hood of the cloak off. 

“If you’re here to break Simmons out, that’s a really bad idea. Especially for a witch like yourself, _Sarge_.” Grif hissed quietly. 

The older man huffed, shoving Grif’s chest and standing above his height, “Of course y’d say that, ya dirtbag. Ima get mah boy back. Knew he shouldn’t’ve trusted yah.” He said, making an approach to the prison. He made it about a step before Grif slammed him against the shop wall. 

“If you go in there now and break Simmons out, then what? I know Simmons, and there’s no way for you to get out without both of you getting caught. And if you go in there now, they’ll know you’re a witch. You’re not too good at hiding it. You haven’t had the kind of ‘normal human’ experience Simmons has had. You need to be out here, alive when he gets out.” Grif said, his eyebrow twitching.

Sarge growled, “Witch’s never escape death when they come in contact with humans.” He spat.

Grif backed up slightly, “You’re human, too! If you make it out, you’d have to isolate him from the world completely. Not only would hunters be after you, but you’d be hurting him as well. Don’t you get it? Go home! I swear he’s gonna be the first witch to escape the death penalty. I even told him that.”

The older man was furious, shaking his head and slowly starting back for the forest again. He turned around to face Grif once more, “You may think ya know all ‘bout ‘im, but ya didn’t raise ‘im and know ‘im like ah did. Ya shouldn’t make ‘im promises you can’t keep.” With that, Sarge left.

Grif ran home, that one sentence running through his head over and over again. _‘Don’t make him promises you can’t keep.’_


	11. XI

“Carolina, I’m not sure about this.” Wash said as he stood next to the aforementioned woman. She seemed pretty uninterested in the people filing around until Wash had commented. 

She turned in her chair and narrowed her eyes, “How exactly are you not sure about this, Washington. All witches are put through trial.” She stated firmly, glancing over to the right section of seats. “And death.”

Wash looked uneasily in the same direction as Carolina. Grif had his arms crossed, glaring daggers at the red head and blonde. His sister was sitting next to him, an unreadable look on her face. The guard groaned, deciding to look down at his feet instead.

Maine was near the center of the room where the witch would be questioned, a couple more guards hanging out around the room. Carolina was in the center to lead the trial, the other carriers deciding to let her take this as her first case on her own. 

Although Carolina was very firm about her decisions, Wash was beginning to have doubts about the witch. Sure, witches were described as evil and power-hungry, but the witch whose name he remembered to be Simmons seemed completely harmless. Hell, a human had even demanded to visit with him a few times before the trial to check on him.

Still, better safe than sorry. Wash simply avoided Grif’s intense stare as much as possible and hoped for the trial to end quickly. 

*****

Guards had to drag Simmons down to the town’s courthouse. The last two weeks had made him extremely weak, and he was pretty sure he was coming down with something. What, he really didn’t know. He didn’t really care much anymore, either.

The red head kept his gaze on the floor of the house when the doors opened. A few things were pelted at him from the crowd, one hitting the bruise on his head. He quietly groaned, looking up to try to find the Grif’s in the crowd. 

It didn’t take too long since they were sitting right at the edge of the seating stand. Grif was gripping the bar, watching his every move intently. Simmons forced himself to give him a small reassuring smile before a guard made him kneel down on the floor. 

Simmons was one hundred and ten percent sure that he would hardly be able to move during the trial because of his condition, but that didn’t seem to stop the guards from tying him down to be sure. Once they finished the red head didn’t need to look to know Carolina was glaring down from above him.

Carolina raised her hand, immediately silencing everyone in the room, “So,” She began, a smirk twitching at the edge of her lips. “It seems we’ve found yet another witch among us humans.”

Many people let out noises of distaste, a few even swearing at Simmons. He just kept his gaze trained on the floor.

“You have to look up at me for this trial to continue, Mr. Simmons.” Carolina growled, sparing a glance in Maine’s direction before looking back down at the witch. 

Simmons tried to look up; he did. But after a few inches his neck knotted up and he squeaked, letting his head hang forward. 

Lunatic was by his side in no time, raising a fist and slamming it down into Simmons’ cheek. He gasped, his throat tightening before he was kicked in the chest. His lungs stopped the airflow through his body for a few moments after the impact. Simmons panicked; he was struggling to breathe before it finally came back to him. Lunatic grabbed a fistful of Simmons’ flaming red hair and yanked his head back so he was looking at Carolina before letting go. 

“Can’t you see that he can’t fucking move because of you cock-bites?!” Both Carolina and Simmons looked over to Grif in surprise at his sudden outburst. Wash made a move towards him before Carolina placed a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back.

She continued, ignoring Grif. “Mr. Simmons was caught in the woods by our warden Maine. He was using magic. You’re a witch, right Mr. Simmons?” She asked, although everyone already knew the answer.

Simmons coughed, clearing his throat enough to speak shakily. “Yes.”

“You’re going to have to speak louder if you expect anyone to hear you.” Carolina said, nodding at Maine again.

The brute walked forward and forcefully pressed his foot into the bullet wound on Simmons’ leg. He screamed, “ _I am!_ ” He shrieked, hacking loudly. He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes, stinging on the dry surface of his skin.

Wash was already behind Grif, tying his arms behind his back. Grif had been trying to climb over the bar when he’d finally gotten over to him, kicking furiously when Wash grabbed him, “Let go of me Wash, I’m gonna knock those teeth right out of his goddamn mouth!” He yelled as the blonde forced him to sit back down. Wash took a seat beside him to make sure nothing else happened.

Kai covered her face with her hands, trying to stifle her cries to the best of her ability while Carolina asked a few more questions. She was shaking her head, trying to keep her eyes off of Simmons, Carolina, Wash, and her brother. 

“You’re able to use powers; who taught you and where are they?” Carolina asked. 

Simmons opened and closed his mouth a few times. He couldn’t tell her about Sarge; he didn’t care what Lunatic did to him because of it, he would never give away the person who raised him just because he preferred to die in a few days rather than in a few seconds.

Lunatic didn’t hesitate; he stormed over and decked Simmons square in the mouth. The red head only grunted, knowing if he shouted anymore it would just satisfy his audience, “Answer me.” Carolina growled. 

Simmons shook his head in response, slowly looking up to her. He glared as best as he could, sending her a clear message; _‘I’m not telling you.’_

“He’s casting a spell on her!” An unknown person shouted. Carolina ducked under her desk, yelling a command at the Lunatic. Simmons was released from his position, grabbed by the neck in a choke-hold and thrown to the ground. 

He saw stars dot in the corners of his vision when his head smacked the hard floor. Simmons felt a gash open up in the side of his head as he struggled to keep his eyes open and stay conscious, “Kill me…” He hissed up at the brute. “Please…”

Simmons’ ears were numb; he heard Carolina’s muffled shouting and what sounded like the guard Wash yelling back. Then he heard the crowd yelling all at once. Simmons was being picked up off of the ground just as he blacked out into a dark world of nothingness.


	12. XII

Simmons woke up back in his cell, an almost unbearable ache pounding in his head. He reached up and felt bandaging around his entire head. After inspection he looked up and saw one of the guards sitting on the floor across from his cell. 

The right lens of his glasses was shattered, the left cracked, so he could only assume by the fuzz of blonde hair that it was Wash. 

The man cleared his throat, “I got some supplies and patched you up the best I could.” Wash whispered. 

To Simmons’ surprise, there was bandaging wrapped up his arms as well as his head. But he noticed the bullet wound in his leg still had nothing on it. 

He must have been thinking about it for a bit too long, because Wash spoke up again, “I couldn’t do anything about your leg. The musket bullet is still in there, of course. By this point it would have to be amputated. But it’s pretty unlikely you’d live through that.” He said, his pity for Simmons clear as day.

They both sat in silence for another minute. Simmons opened his mouth to thank him, but nothing came out but a scratchy heave. That gained Wash’s attention once more, looking back up at the prisoner. 

“You’re going to have another trial tomorrow. Carolina decided Maine had taken his actions to the extreme. You won’t have to talk, though. We’re having people come in to decide whether you should be released or not.” Wash paused, tilting his head. “You weren’t really casting a spell on her, were you?”

Simmons carefully shook his head, every move causing a burst of pain to shoot up his spine. 

Wash hummed, “You don’t want to kill anyone, do you?” The guard asked, although he already knew the answer. 

Again, Simmons shook his head. 

Finally the guard sighed, standing up, “If you need anything else… Let me know.” He said before walking out of the hall. 

*****

Early the next morning, Simmons was brought down to the courthouse again. He was tied down as usual, and everyone from his last trial was in the same spot as last time. 

When Carolina looked down at him, she didn’t seem as furious as she did last time, but she still made a noise of distaste every time their eyes locked. 

Simmons was already struggling to stay awake, his eyes fluttering closed before he forced them open again. It was torturous. 

When he finally managed to keep his eyes open, it seemed as though the trial had begun. Everyone was looking in the direction of one of the front stands, where he was more than surprised to see Kai, a determined expression on her face.

“You can proceed.” Carolina said to her. 

Kai nodded, looking over at Simmons before turning back to the crowd, “Look, I’m not going to waste all of you fucktard’s time with an emotional speech about Simmons. He’s a witch. But he’s also one of my best friends, and he’s never done anything that would put the town in danger. He actually gave me this cool potion on my birthday for my room that I use every day! …Okay, bad point to make. But the facts are that he, and pretty much every witch that exists to this day, is no harm to us at all.” She glared over at Carolina before hopping off and walking back over to her seat.

Simmons watched as the crowd began to murmur, Carolina gesturing for the next person to stand and talk. It was Grif.

The red head was having a really hard time trying to stay awake now, but he forced all his energy through to hear what Grif had to say. 

“First of all,” The larger man began, “Fuck all of you for even thinking that this trial was necessary.” He leaned over on the stand, “Secondly, Simmons is the most harmless guy I know. Even for being a witch. So I’d like all of you to process this information as I continue. He had a job before, and his boss had beaten him pretty bad just for being a witch. Not because he’d done anything bad to him, and not because he’d tried to ruin his business, but just for the fact that he was a witch. And you know what? Simmons didn’t even do anything about it! He took it like any other human would. Yeah that’s right, he’s human. Sure he can create magic and do things we can’t, but how does that make him any less human than the rest of us?” He stated proudly. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Grif.” Carolina growled, gesturing for him to return to his seat.

“And here’s another thing-” Grif began, but Carolina cut him off. 

“I said that’s enough. That’s all the information we need from you.” She gave him an icy glare, making Grif sulk back to his seat. 

She turned back to the crowd, shifting her gaze until it landed on a specific person in the crowd. “We have one more person for the stand today.”

Simmons’ eyes widened when said person walked past him and to the stand. Miller shifted in his place as he was given the okay by Carolina. 

“He worked for me, and I’ve never seen anything more disgraceful in my entire life. I saw him, almost every day, trying to put spells on my shop and damning me to a life of hell any chance he could get.” Miller began.

“Fucking liar!” Grif yelled from his place.

Miller looked him up and down, “The little shit always tried to do things to my work, which is why I had to show him what’s what every day. Then his little friend over there,” He pointed to Grif. “Decided that doing that kind of thing to humans was suddenly okay. Broke my nose and ran away with my only worker. And now look where it’s got him.”

Miller went back to his seat as Carolina thanked him. “We’ll have a few minutes to determine the ruling and-”

“Wait.” A man said, rising from the crowd and walking over to the stand. Simmons’ eyes were drooping when he saw the cloaked man, but he sucked in a breath when he removed his hood and stared over the crowd.

Sarge.

“You’re not permitted to be up here.” Carolina said, standing in her seat. Sarge narrowed his eyes. 

“No, I’m not. But yer gonna let the guardian of this young man speak, or this trial will be over pretty quickly.” That made Carolina speechless, slowly sitting back down in her chair.

“Now of course, I’m ah witch just like ‘im. So I’d know ‘im better than any of ya would. Now that’s no need to get yer panties in a twist, cuz we ain’t gonna do diddly squat to ya idiots. Mah boy here was given to me by his mother when he was only a year old. Wanna know why? Because she was a witch. And ‘er husband wanted to kill ‘em both. So ah raised ‘im, and he’d always get bullied by the other kiddos in town. Ah always made ‘im carry something around to save his skin. No, he never hurt any of the other kids; he had to carry around somethin’ to save _himself_. If that doesn’t get through yer thick heads, ah dunno what will. He wasn’t the one who was dangerous; it was all of _you_.” He said, leaning back in the stand. He glanced over in Simmons’ direction and froze.

“Shit!” Sarge cursed, murmuring a spell and blowing over two of his fingers. A gust of wind blew over towards Simmons’ direction and everyone gasped, finally noticing Simmons lying down on the floor, his eyes closed. 

Grif didn’t hesitate, he hopped over the rail and rushed over to Simmons as people in the crowd pointed and yelled at Sarge. He held his boyfriend tightly as he searched for a pulse. 

“Carolina, we need to let him go. He hasn’t done anything, and now he’s dying because of us!” Wash pleaded with the red head. She just huffed, knocking down on the wood counter and ordering that everyone stay calm.

Sarge was by Grif as well, after the older man telling him that his spell had given life back to the red head since he’d stopped breathing just moments before. Although keeping him alive, Simmons’ breaths were too shallow to last forever. 

“We’ll determine his ruling at a later time. For now, send him back to his cell.” Carolina decided. 

Wash growled, “He’s not going to stay alive in there by himself, Carolina. I’m going to stay in there with him and Grif until you come to a decision, but this is already crossing a line.” He said angrily as he rushed to help Sarge and Grif.

Carolina was stunned. As she retired to come to a decision, she hoped Simmons didn’t survive the night.


	13. XIII

Wash was leaning on one of the cell walls, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched over Grif and Simmons. The cell door was open since no one was really planning on getting in or out anytime soon. There were five canteens of water next to the bed and a whole plate of food. 

Simmons had woken up an hour before, unable to move any of his limbs. Grif was helping him drink sips of water and eat proper food. The red head could only manage to speak a few words since, some including ‘water’, ‘help’, and ‘thanks’. 

Sarge had fled the courthouse as soon as Grif and Wash had Simmons in a more stable condition. Right now no one knew where he was, and everyone was staying indoors until they figured it out. 

Wash sighed, glancing over where Grif placed another empty canteen on the floor, “You really love him, don’t you?” Wash asked, noting that Simmons had fallen back to sleep again.

Grif nodded in response, “What’s happened over the last few weeks has been fucked up.” He said, his voice shaky. “I don’t understand why she needed to do this to him.”

“Who, Carolina?” Wash asked. 

Grif looked up at him. “She was our friend before all of this shit started. Now I don’t know what to think of her. She’s more of an enemy now than anything. Even Kai doesn’t want to talk to her anymore.” 

The guard was about to ask about how his sister was when footsteps clanked down the hallway, and Maine was suddenly in front of the three. He made a low growl, which made Wash raise his eyebrows, “Really?” He asked. Maine nodded, walking off again. 

Wash looked down at Grif, “Carolina’s decided what’s going to happen to him.” He said shakily. “We need to get back to the courthouse.”

Grif stood, and with Wash’s help they managed to get Simmons up off of the floor. They carried him outside the prison and over to the courthouse. 

There were guards scattered everywhere, watching as they entered the double doors and into the center of the room. Grif noticed that Sarge was standing in the corner, pure panic showing through his gruff features. Nobody knew what to expect. 

All of the other council members that had been absent for the first two trials were here now, all waiting for Carolina to announce her final ruling. Grif and Wash still stood by Simmons’ side, Kai running over to the three as soon as they reached the center. 

Everyone was silenced immediately when Carolina stood up in her seat, “This trial has been the longest we’ve had. It’s amazing that it took so long. But it all comes down to these kinds of decisions, doesn’t it?” She said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We’ve had many witch deaths take place right outside of this house.” She looked up firmly, taking a deep breath. “But that will not be the case this time around.”

Many people in the crowd screamed and booed, standing up as Carolina continued. “Mr. Simmons will be pardoned, and will not be hung for being a witch. Although the council strongly recommends that he leaves our town not as a threat, but as to not be hunted down by any of the townspeople.”

Kai cheered loudly and Grif let out a laugh of relief that quickly turned into sobs. Wash looked down at Simmons, who had his eyes closed but he was smiling shakily. Guards around the room lined up to keep people in their seats and away from everyone else.

Wash was going to make a move to help Grif carry Simmons again, but the larger man turned him down as he picked up the redhead bridal-style and looked up to Carolina. She flashed a quick smirk his way, but it was gone as soon as it came. She nodded at them and together they made their way out of the house. 

“Oh my god, you did it! You actually did it!” Sister yelled, holding Simmons’ hand when they got outside. She skipped around, ecstatic and happy of what came out of everything that’d happened.

Sarge walked over to them, a smile on his face, “Well boys, ya did it.” He said, patting Grif on the shoulder and ruffling Simmons’ hair. 

“S-Sarge-” Simmons said, coughing. “We’d have to leave our h-house now…”

“No,” Sarge said, his smile faltering. “I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this about ‘im, but ah want ya to stick with Grif here.”

Simmons forced his eyes open a little bit, “Wha?” He asked. “W-what about you?”

Sarge sighed, “I’ve lived there for as long as ah can remember. Ah can’t leave; and ah don’t want ya to have gone through all this just to be killed by a few hunters. I’d die in that house before ah see ya die too. Go with Grif,” He said. “For yer safety and mah sanity.”

Simmons felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, “W-why don’t y-you-” He began coughing before he could finish.

“Come with ya?” Sarge finished for him. He let out a small laugh, “Ah can’t; ya need to start a life of yer own; but I’ll always be here with ya, son.” He handed Simmons a small memory bottle.

Simmons clutched it tightly and weakly reached his arm out to him as Sarge started to back away. “Please… Don’t go…”

He didn’t respond, just turned to the forest and went away as Simmons called after him over and over; begging for him to come back long after they’d started away themselves. 

*****

Grif had carried Simmons back to their house with Kai tagging along behind them. They couldn’t stay home for much longer; people would find them. Grif told Kai to start packing her things in a trunk and he did the same, letting Simmons rest on the main room chair. 

When they were done, Grif came out of his room and noticed a trunk beside Simmons’ sleeping form. When he opened it up, there were books and bottles packed inside, along with almost every piece of clothing he’d ever seen Simmons wear. At the bottom of a pile there was a piece of parchment with, ‘-SARGE’ written on it. 

They slept in the house overnight. Grif knew an old friend who would help them find a place to stay, so he decided that they would head out the next morning. 

For a few weeks, Simmons said little to no words to anyone. He tended to watch the little bottle Sarge had given him frequently.

A month later, his friend, Franklin Delano Donut, had managed to make Grif, Simmons, and Kai a home. Since Kai had recently turned eighteen, he had offered to build her a separate house next to theirs. 

It took another month for Simmons’ head injuries, wounds, and his weight to get back to normal before they finally decided that they could do something about his leg.

“Okay Simmons, you’re okay. Look up at me. Just breathe.” Grif said, rubbing the sides of Simmons’ head as the red head looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, a piece of cloth in his mouth. Donut stood at the other end of the dining room table, an axe in his hand. 

The architect and designer raised his arm, making a few alignments before swinging down and cutting off the red head’s lower leg. 

He’d passed out shortly after from the blood loss, Grif and Donut working hard to wrap around his stump of a leg and stop the bleeding. 

When his leg healed up enough that he didn’t need to wear the bandages anymore, it was around Christmas time. Simmons was sitting on a wooden chair Donut had made as a house warming gift when said man had stopped by their house with a gift. Grif had watched Simmons almost cry as he held a wooden leg in his hands. 

When Christmas day came, Kai, Grif, Simmons, and Donut all spent the day together. Grif and Donut both helped cook dinner together while Kai tried to help Simmons walk on his new leg around the house. 

When the other two had left for the night, Grif and Simmons were wrapped around each other, falling asleep. Simmons looked over at the little bottle sitting on the table next to the bed. A little boy appeared inside, around the age of four and pretending to ride a broom across a front yard. And older man chased after him, the two laughing hysterically as the little boy tripped and fell into a muddy garden.

Simmons smiled shakily and turned his head up towards Grif, “Hey Grif,” He whispered. “You ever wonder why we’re here?”

Grif buried his face in Simmons hair and linked their hands together. “No. Why do you ask?”

Simmons looked around before shaking his head. “Dunno. Dumb question.”

Grif chuckled. “Mind putting out the candles for me?”

Simmons rolled his eyes and waved his hand over the bedroom, the candles dimming before putting themselves out. Witches still weren’t accepted into society, but Simmons didn’t care. He didn’t need to care when Grif was beside him. “Happy?”

“Yes.” Grif yawned, “Merry Christmas, nerd.”

“Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the mess of unedited grammatical errors but hey, you made it through lol.


End file.
